


Clone

by GenitalGrievous



Series: Narcissism [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: New Jedi Order Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Clone Sex, M/M, Narcissism, Self-Love, To Love Oneself, cheating?, clone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:55:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1540118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenitalGrievous/pseuds/GenitalGrievous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke dreams of the time he fought Luuke, but something's not right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clone

Luke could feel the heavy weight of his lightsaber slipping in the sweat that had soaked the palms of his hands. He spaced his legs, consciously, nervously, thinking of the width of his shoulders and lifting up on the balls of his feet. Less than ten feet away Luuke met his gaze, the blue-bladed lightsaber he thought he would never see again held deftly in one hand. Luke's whole body felt hot, a thin line along his temple seemed to pulse with the strain of his concentration on every movement. He licked his lips and tasted the salty tang of sweat that had gathered above his upper lip. The room was oppressively hot, all of the onlookers seemed to fade into a hazy background of humidity while his mind centered on his opponent. Even C'Boath's throaty yells had ceased to register to him. He reached out tentatively with a thread of the force, trying to gently probe Luuke's mind. It felt like Luuke's whole mind was a blazing inferno, a swirling vortex of unimaginable heat with a thundering power below it. But no thoughts, no emotions, just the cavernous maw of hot power and nothing else.  
Luuke took a slow step forward, right foot first with his left foot slowly dragging behind it. His grey-blue eyes locked on his twin's, betraying nothing. He reached forward and grasped his lightsaber with his left hand just above the pommel, and Luke steeled himself for the duel to start. His eyes drawn to the saber in Luuke's hand, Luke watched as he slowly angled his blade forward. Luuke smiled, his pink tongue darting out to lick his lips and Luke watched, mouth slightly open, and felt something stir firmly in his pants. _No, this isn't how it happened._  
Slowly, almost liquidly, Luuke pulled his left hand away from his saber hilt, right hand still keeping the blade pointed stoically at Luke. He rubbed his left hand down his chest, stomach, settling firmly on his crotch. Luke could see the fabric straining, pulled tight, just like how he must appear to Luuke. A shiver ran down his spine and he could feel the hairs along his forearms rising, the proverbial electricity in the room was palpable. _This isn't right._ Luuke unbuttoned his khaki pants, freeing his cock. Luke couldn't avert his eyes from it, Luuke's prick was was rigidly standing at an angle perpendicular to his saber, the tip glistening with precome. _No._ Switching off his saber, Luke dropped to his knees on the cold stone floor, his legs jarring with the impact as his deactivated saber clattered metallically across the tiles.  
Smiling with only the corners of his mouth, Luuke approached Luke slowly, until his saber stood between Luke's neck and shoulder, humming in the cold air, the heat burning Luke's skin even though the saber didn't touch him. It switched off, the warning clear enough, and Luuke gracefully clipped his saber to his belt. His cock was inches from Luke's mouth, and Luke could smell the salty tang of Luuke's musk. He shuddered as he felt the tip press purposefully against his parted lips. _Not like this._ He took Luuke's prick into his mouth, it throbbed gently on his tongue as Luuke hesitated a moment. The flavour was musky, sweaty, manly. There was only a brief moment of hesitation before Luke felt Luuke's hands wind through his hair on the back of his head, grabbing two tight fistfuls of his long hair and using the leverage to pull his head towards him sharply, fucking Luke's throat. Luke gagged, reaching up to grip Luuke by the bottom of his jacket for balance, and tried to relax the muscles in his throat. He moved his tongue along the bottom of Luuke's cock, and sucked tightly, satisfied when Luuke thrust harder into his mouth. He could feel the power behind Luuke's thrusts, feeling intoxicated by Luuke's forceful behaviour, by the delicate hint of the dark side behind it.   
Luke pulled his head against Luuke's grip until only the tip of his dick was in Luke's mouth. He swirled his tongue around it, tasted the savoury flavour of precome still dripping from his slit. Luuke gripped Luke's head tighter and yanked him forward, his cock hitting the back of Luke's throat roughly before he pulled Luke's head back to the tip, then pulled his head forward again. Tears streamed down Luke's face as his gag reflex was repeatedly assaulted, his jaw aching. _This never happened._ Luke tried vainly to regain control, but Luuke had all of the power in the situation, all Luke could manage was to not scrape his teeth along the shaft. He felt his neck ache as Luuke sharply pulled his head back entirely off of his cock, a thread of saliva still connecting the tip to Luke's gaping mouth. Lips sore and swollen from the friction of Luuke's prick, Luke looked up at his face. The mirror image, slightly younger, was dark and angry, frowning down at him, dominating. Luke came in his pants, his hips jolting forward against the sensation, the semen sticky against his skin and pubic hair. In several quick bursts Luuke came on his face, the white cloudy liquid hitting one of his eyes and slowly oozing down the bridge of his nose. 

The room was dark, but Luke was warm and sweaty, his heart beating a stiff tattoo against the blanket that covered him. He shifted against the stiff mattress and felt a cool dampness in his underwear. Blushing with shame, Luke glanced sideways at his wife Mara, still sleeping quietly. He looked up at the ceiling, willing his heart-rate to slow, swallowing, and imagining a musky flavour in his mouth. What had caused such a dream, was it something in the force calling out to Luke? What would make him dream of his own clone in such a way? Luke closed his eyes and tried to enter a Jedi meditation, but his concentration failed. He listened to Mara's breathing, slow and steady, and tried to ground himself with it. He wouldn't sleep tonight.


End file.
